


come closer 'cause i want it all over my body

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Best Friends, Crying During Sex, F/M, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Small Penis, Threesome - F/M/M, Unconditional Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 22:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: If Stiles had one piece of advice to offer the world, it’d be this: don’t play Truth or Dare past high school.  Because if you do, you’re going to end up admitting you’re a twenty-four-year-old virgin and your friends, way too old to be laughing at you, will drag you off to a bedroom instead, set on remedying that issue with a smile and a threesome.





	come closer 'cause i want it all over my body

**Author's Note:**

> .....................it's exactly what it says on the tin lol.
> 
> title is from 'your love' by little mix
> 
> i don't own teen wolf
> 
> only warnings are for deep-seated body insecurities that are dealt with very gently and lovingly

If Stiles had one piece of advice to offer the world, it’d be this: don’t play Truth or Dare past high school.  Because if you do, you’re going to end up admitting you’re a twenty-four-year-old virgin and your friends, way too old to be laughing at you, will drag you off to a bedroom instead, set on remedying that issue with a smile and a threesome.

Which is how Stiles finds himself perched on the edge of a California king watching Scott and Kira moan into each other’s mouths, his hands shaking where they’re folded tightly in his lap.  His blood is laced with arousal, but his stomach is in knots, tied up with a mixture of dread and terror.  The drastic contrast between what his body wants – _sex sex please hands on my body mouth anywhere you can reach please please please –_ and what his mind wants – to run straight from the room – leaves him a bit light-headed.  He hopes he doesn’t pass out.

Scott and Kira make a pretty picture.  The summer sun has kissed Kira nearly as tan as her boyfriend, golden skin on golden skin as her hands glide over Scott’s torso and her legs bracket his hips.  Stiles is pretty sure they’ve forgotten he’s there, but rather than be offended, he watches with wide eyes and a rapidly-beating heart, knocking against his ribcage.  They’re gorgeous.  He’d forget him too, if he was in their position.

But, as it turns out, they’ve not forgotten him at all.  Just as Scott lets out a high-pitched whimper that makes Stiles’ ears go red, Kira pulls away.  It has Scott whimpering again, this time in protest. 

“Get over here,” she orders, tone gentle but words allowing for no argument.  “We’re taking you to bed, sweetheart, not putting on a show.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Stiles mutters but it’s to hide his nerves more than anything.  _God_ , he feels sick.  “Won’t take your fucking lips off each other.”

From where he’s splayed out on the bed, chest heaving and pupils blown wide, Scott snorts a laugh.  “If you weren’t halfway across the world, we’d be able to kiss you, too, dumbass!  Look at you…you’re barely even hard.”

And that’s just…humiliating.  Because Stiles _is_ hard.  He’s _so_ hard.  He’s the hardest he’s ever been in his life, probably, but a glance down at his lap shows that his underwear is barely even tented.  Stiles struggles to swallow around the lump that’s suddenly risen in the back of his throat.  This is a terrible idea.

But Kira and Scott are looking at him expectantly, smiles full of affection and eyes full of longing, so he takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets himself go.  Lets himself get lost in the moment, knees taking him across the bed to hover over Scott, mouth nearly watering with how badly he wants to kiss him. 

But first— “Can I?” he asks, glancing at Kira with pink cheeks, ears ringing with the breathless plea.  He sounds wrecked already.  “Please?”

“Of course,” she whispers, one gentle hand sliding into the back of his hair.  He shivers.  “You can do anything you want.”

So, stomach twisting, Stiles leans down and brushes his lips against Scott’s and, after years of waiting and wondering, they’re finally, _finally_ kissing.  Impatient, Scott grabs Stiles’ shoulders with desperate hands, pulling him down to deepen the kiss.  It’s all too much for a second – Stiles has the sudden and frantic urge to wrench away – but then Scott sucks Stiles’ bottom lip into his mouth and Stiles melts.  Almost literally.

His limbs give out and he crashes down on top of Scott – on top of his _best_ _friend_ – and kisses him like he’s starved for it.  Stiles doesn’t have much to compare it to, but he’s pretty sure it isn’t sexy.  It isn’t like the movies or the TV shows or the books – no, it’s sloppy and sweaty and pretty fucking gross.  There’s spit everywhere, smeared across Scott’s chin and sticking to the hair above Stiles’ upper lip, but Stiles hardly notices, fears and anxieties blessedly gone from his mind as he licks and sucks and nibbles.  He feels so _good_ and if the panting little breaths Scott gasps out between kisses is anything to go by, he does, too.

Stiles hardly notices when Kira pulls his shirt from his body – _C’mon, baby…off with it!_ – but every muscle freezes up when he feels her skinny fingers hook into the waistline of his underwear.  He’s off of Scott like a flash.

“Um—” he says dumbly, kneeling in the middle of the bed like an idiot, arms folded across his chest like he can make himself smaller.  “I—um.  _Don’t_.”

Kira has her hands out in front of her, showing Stiles her palms as if to promise not to touch.  “Don’t what, love?” she asks, forehead wrinkled quizzically.  Next to her, Scott is sweaty and staring at Stiles like he’s lost his mind.  Stiles swipes the back of his hand across his mouth.  “Do you not want to?  Did we read this wrong?”

“ _Shit_ ,” Scott breathes before Stiles can answer.  He scrambles to a sitting position, hair mussed from the pillow and Stiles’ fingers.  “Shit, _fuck_!  I _knew_ we were gonna fucking ruin everything, _crap_ —”

Stiles interrupts him by groaning long and loud in frustration, hands going to his hair and yanking.  He yanks so hard it brings tears to his eyes.  “You didn’t ruin anything!” he promises, wanting nothing more than to disappear.  To his horror, his lips start trembling.  “It’s me, okay? I’m just—I’m all messed up, alright?  Just give me a second, _fuck_.”

He closes his eyes, sick feeling returning to his stomach.  He’s so stupid.  So, so stupid.

A few strands pull from his scalp and he winces, letting them fall onto the duvet.  Then a pair of gentle hands reaches up to cover his, coaxing him to let go of his hair and come out of hiding.  “Don’t hurt yourself,” Kira whispers and she’s close enough to his ear that he can feel her breath.  He doesn’t open his eyes.  “Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

Stiles doesn’t want to – he really, _really_ doesn’t want to – but he doesn’t have to look up to know that his friends’ faces are etched with worry, so he forces out, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Nonsense.”  It’s Scott’s voice this time, somewhere to Stiles’ left.  “We’re all adults here, Stiles.  Me and Kira love you and there’s no better way to have your first time than with someone you love.”  He laughs a little.  “Trust me.”

“It’s not that,” Stiles admits, even though he wishes it was.  “I just mean—I don’t deserve it.”

The sound Kira makes is both sad and fond all at once.  “You deserve the world, honey,” she says and Stiles’ eyes flood with tears that manage to fight their way past his closed eyelids and skate down his cheeks.  A careful finger wipes one away.  “You deserve everything you could ever want.”

That’s the last straw.  His eyes flying open, Stiles snarls out, “No, I fucking don’t!” before he takes fistfuls of his underwear and yanks them straight down his thighs.  Then, upset and shaking, he’s exposed to the quiet room, kneeling there before his two best friends.  He feels like he’s going to vomit.

Because he’s so small he’s practically useless.  Even hard he’s barely longer than his middle finger, curving up but unable to brush against his belly.  It’s pathetic is what it is.  Pathetic and tiny and ugly and nothing anyone would ever want to look at, let alone touch.

The room is silent, save for Stiles’ own harsh breathing.  Bringing an arm up to sling over his eyes, blocking his red face from view, he finally demands, “Well?  You gonna laugh or what?”

It’s a shock when Scott stutters out, voice cracking, “ _No_.”  His friend clears his throat.  “No, I’m gonna suck it.”

And Stiles can only spare a second to wonder if Scott’s making fun of him before a warm mouth wraps around his tiny, useless dick and takes him all the way down, nose burying into the wiry hair below his bellybutton.  Stiles yelps out loud in shock and falls backwards onto the bed, the force of it causing Scott to pop off, leaving Stiles’ skin cold and wet.  He makes a keening noise in the back of his throat, pleading without words for _more more please again again_ , and then Kira’s there, taking him down in Scott’s stead.  Her long hair brushes against his stomach, tickling him in the best way possible.

“There you go,” Scott’s murmuring, taking ahold of Stiles’ shoulders to ease him backwards and help him get propped up against the pillows.  “’S good, isn’t it?”

“ _Mmm_ ” is all Stiles can say, brain a pile of goo as he tries with all his might not to buck up into Kira’s face.  Just because he’s a twenty-four-year-old virgin with a pathetic dick, it doesn’t mean he can’t be polite, dammit.

“He’s _my_ best friend, stop fucking hogging him,” Scott says finally, arms crossed as he watches Kira bob up and down like she was made for it.  Stiles’ laugh turns into a moan as Kira complies, pulling off and letting Scott take over.  Even Stiles can tell that Scott’s never done this before – where Kira was efficient, opening her throat to take as much as possible, Scott is sloppy, choking periodically and letting his teeth graze against Stiles’ skin every once in a while.  Stiles doesn’t mind, though.  He likes them both.

He _really_ likes them both.

It doesn’t take long for heat to pool in his stomach and his legs to start shaking, but before he can give a shout of warning, Scott pulls away and orders, “I don’t want you to come.”

“What?”  Stiles is dazed, brain muddled and dick aching with how hard he is.

“Don’t come yet,” Scott repeats, running soothing hands up and down over Stiles’ belly.  He leans in to lick at the precome at Stiles’ slit.  Stiles flinches, abs tightening up.  “You wanna fuck Kira?” he goes on, licking and licking and licking.  His voice is garbled.  “She’s so good, Stiles…you’re gonna feel so good.”

Stiles wonders fleetingly if he even _can_ fuck Kira with how tiny he is, but when Kira leans down to kiss him, tits against his chest and lips against his neck, he forgets all about it.  “P- _please_ ,” he chokes out, mouth going slack as the pressure at his neck and the heat between his legs takes his breath away.  “Please, I—I want to, _please_.”

It must be the right thing to say, because Scott wraps his mouth around Stiles one last time and hums his approval, making Stiles fall straight over the edge with his best friend’s name on his lips.  He’s barely stopped coming before he’s babbling apologies, face going red with embarrassment yet again.  “I’m sorry!” he cries, feeling stupid.  “I didn’t mean to!  It was just— _shit_ , it was too much, I—”

There’s come on Scott’s face and a smile on Kira’s.  “Shut up,” she says, moving to straddle Stiles’ waist.  Her hands are comforting as they smooth over his shoulders and pecs, helping him through the aftershocks.  “He’s always such a fucking tease, that boy.  You can’t be expected to hold off when he’s being mean like that.”

Then she kisses him again and Stiles forgets to be embarrassed.

Being twenty-four isn’t quite the same as being seventeen, but a virgin is a virgin and Stiles is hard again before long, kissing and nipping at Kira’s lips while Scott leaves marks at Stiles’ hips.  It’s when he starts leaking that Kira pulls away, giggling at the string of spit that stretches between their mouths before it finally breaks, and whispers, “Still wanna fuck me?”

Stiles nearly chokes on his tongue in his haste to whisper back, “Yes, _please_ , can I?”

“I want you so bad,” Kira says in response and she’s so wet between her legs that Stiles believes her.  In a weird way, it makes him want to cry.

He manages not to though, just lets Scott help him roll the condom on and follows Kira’s lead when she lets her legs fall open, crooking one finger at him as if to say _come on then_.  It takes him a little bit to get his courage up, mouthing at Kira’s neck before he finally thinks _fuck it_ and pushes inside her.  It instantly punches the air from his lungs.

It’s a new feeling, being surrounded by wet heat, and so _tight_.  Even through the condom he can feel her all over him, clenching as she gets comfortable, and without warning his eyes fill with tears.  He’s never felt this close to someone before, like they could climb inside each other’s bodies and stay there forever.  Too overwhelmed to move, he buries his face in her neck and just breathes.

Kira understands.  She understands and she doesn’t make fun, stroking her hand over the back of his hair and moving her lips against his temple as she mumbles, “It’s okay, love.  It’s okay…I’m here.  You’re okay.   You’re doing so well—feel so good, baby.”

It’s the rough, calloused hands that move cautiously over Stiles’ back and the high, raspy voice saying _you’re alright, dude_ that manage to finally pull him from his overcome state.  “I’m okay now,” Stiles says, looking deep into Kira’s pretty dark eyes to ask for permission.  She rolls her hips in answer and Stiles sees stars.

Stiles doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really, but he builds a rhythm up that feels good and Kira rocks up to meet him every time, pretty noises falling from between her lips as she wraps her legs around his waist.  At some point, Scott crawls up to the top of the bed to settle himself against the headboard, knees bent and hand around his dick, touching himself as he watches them.  “Play with her clit,” he says to Stiles eventually, voice strained.  “With your thumb as you fuck in.  She likes that.”

Brain foggy, Stiles is at a loss, eyes narrowing as he tries to figure out how to obey.  When it becomes clear that he’s in no position to be figuring that one out, Kira wraps her fingers around his wrist and places his hand where she wants it, thumb right where it feels best.  Gentle, unsure, Stiles moves his fingers experimentally and Kira gasps and tightens around him and suddenly Stiles is coming without warning, a wordless squeak escaping from the back of his throat that should be embarrassing but somehow isn’t.  Kira works him through it, kissing at his slack lips and rolling her hips until he shakes his head, needing her to stop.

“ _Shit_ , Stiles,” she’s panting as she eases him out and off of her, black hair falling into her face.  “You were so—”  She slips two fingers inside herself with a quiet whimper.  “—so _good_.  I—you’re so…!”

And then she comes, Scott following after with a shout.

Hands shaking, Stiles removes the condom and ties it off, throwing it in the general direction of the trashcan and hoping it makes it in.  Then he flops onto his back in between Scott and Kira and stares up at the ceiling, his dick lying against his thigh soft and small.  He almost doesn’t notice when he starts to cry, silent tears dripping down his cheeks and getting lost into his hair.

At the sight of the first tear, his friends curl into him on either side, slinging their arms over his belly to hold him close.  “Good crying or bad crying?” Scott asks, letting his lips press feather-light against Stiles’ cheek.

Somehow Stiles manages to laugh, though it comes out thick through the snot in his nose.  “Good,” he says and it makes him cry harder because it _is_.  It _is_ good and he never thought it could be.

“Carry on then,” Kira says softly.  “As much as you need to.”

They both stroke at his bare skin with slow hands as he tries to get ahold of himself, filling him with so much love he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stand it.  Once they’ve pulled a blanket up over their sweaty, cooling bodies, Stiles finally trusts himself to speak without sobbing and what he says is, “I almost slept with a girl at a college party once, but when I took my pants off, she took one look at me and laughed.”

An indignant sound comes from Scott’s side of the bed.  “She kicked you out of bed for _that_?” he says, outraged.  “Bitch.”

Stiles just shakes his head.  “She didn’t kick me out,” he admits, heat blooming in his cheeks once more.  “She was still willing to do it, but I just couldn’t make myself, you know?  I couldn’t sleep with someone who made me feel so awful…especially not for my first time.”  He squirms.  “That’s probably stupid, isn’t it?  I should’ve just gotten it over with.”

“It’s not stupid at all,” Kira disagrees and her fingers tighten minutely where they’re clutching at his hip.  They dig into the bruises left behind by Scott’s mouth and it hurts in the best way possible.  Stiles barely suppresses a full-body shudder.  “It’s not stupid to want someone to respect you before you have sex with them.”  Then her voice goes quiet and thoughtful.  “Or love you, even.”

Her statement hangs in the air and this time Stiles really does shudder.  “Thank you,” he whispers and hopes it’s enough.

“ _Mmm_ , you’re welcome,” Scott whispers sleepily and drops one last kiss onto Stiles’ shoulder before his eyes fall closed.  It sears into Stiles’ skin and leaves him warm from the inside out, basking in the knowledge that, at least to Scott and Kira, he’s _always_ enough.  Every single piece of him.


End file.
